


Stay

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: Fictober 2019 [8]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Food, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 22:10:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21363460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Crowley just wants to spend more time with Aziraphale.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Fictober 2019 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540126
Kudos: 67





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> For fictober day eight: “Can you stay?”

Aziraphale patted his mouth with a napkin and smiled in satisfaction. “That was absolutely delicious. I didn’t know you could cook.”

Crowley blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, you know. Picked it up here and there.”

“You’re quite good at it.”

“Thanks, angel.” Crowley fidgeted. It was tempting to glance at his watch, but he refrained, putting on a faux-cheery voice as he said, “So. Dessert?”

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes, please.”

Crowley grinned, thumping the table with his hand and then standing up. “Be right back.” He collected their plates, depositing them in the kitchen sink to be dealt with later, and fetched the cake he’d made from the counter. It wasn’t crepes, but Crowley was still having a bit of trouble with those, and he wasn’t about to serve the angel’s favorite food to him until he was absolutely certain that Aziraphale would love it. And anyway, Aziraphale still looked delighted when Crowley set the cake before him, and he dug into it with gusto, moaning eagerly around a forkful. Crowley pretended the tips of his ears weren’t turning red.

“You’re positively spoiling me tonight, dear boy. What’s the occasion?”

“No reason.” Crowley slouched into his seat, stretching out his legs and throwing an arm over the back of his chair, lounging and watching Aziraphale. “Do I need one?”

“Never.” Aziraphale closed his eyes, savoring another bite, and Crowley pressed his lips together. Part of him wanted to look away, but he was transfixed. Aziraphale swallowed and opened his eyes, smiling at Crowley. “We ought to do this more often. It’s very intimate, isn’t it? Certainly more so than the Ritz.”

“Er, yeah. Intimate.” It took imaging his body without blood to stop it from rushing to Crowley’s cheeks. Intimacy was of course the reason he had suggested dinner at his flat, but he hadn’t anticipated Aziraphale hitting on it so readily. “Thought it might be a nice change of pace.”

“It is,” Aziraphale assured him. The angel polished off his plate and leaned back in his chair, looking quite content. “Thank you ever so much for suggesting it.”

“Anytime.”

Silence fell between them, familiar and comfortable. If Aziraphale thought Crowley was staring, it had never bothered him before, and it didn’t seem to now. Crowley hesitated for a moment and then asked, “Can you stay?”

Aziraphale blinked in surprise. “I’m not exactly in a hurry to leave.”

This time, Crowley couldn’t stop the flush. “No, I mean…well, I mean…”

Aziraphale leaned forward, covering Crowley’s hand on the table. Crowley stared at it, then looked up at the angel’s fond expression. “If you wanted me to spend the night with you,” Aziraphale murmured, “you only needed to ask, my dear.”

“I still worry I’m going too fast for you.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I put you through some terrible uncertainty, didn’t I?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Crowley said. “Stay, angel?”

“For as long as you’d like.”


End file.
